


Cat and Mouse

by tenaya



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Gen, Halloween, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1988-04-01
Updated: 1988-04-01
Packaged: 2017-10-21 20:39:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/229636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenaya/pseuds/tenaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dayna and Tarrant need to learn to respect their new crew mates, so Avon proposes a contest of skill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cat and Mouse

# CAT AND MOUSE

  


## by Tenaya

The LIBERATOR slowly sailed through a particularly empty expanse of deep space. The auto–repair circuits had finished dealing with the damage that had nearly destroyed the ship at the Battle of Star One, and now LIBERATOR's hull gleamed with fresh brightness against the vast, black emptiness.

Kerr Avon, who now found himself in charge of the ship and all who resided in her, had decided that a trial period was needed for the new crewmembers, Tarrant and Dayna, to get acquainted with the LIBERATOR's controls, each other, and the rest of the crew. The ship had been going through routine maneuvers for the past week and everybody seemed to be settling in relatively well.

At least, up until now.

Onboard, Del Tarrant strode confidently onto the flight deck and noted with approval the scene that greeted him. Dayna Mellanby was hard at work learning to control the ship's detectors under Cally's helpful guidance and Avon was busy making some adjustments inside his position's console.

Yes, Tarrant was very pleased with his new situation. He had heard many amazing stories concerning the LIBERATOR; he was pleasantly surprised to learn that most of them were true. She was probably the finest ship in all the known worlds and now, he was her captain.

With an unsettling sense of timing, Avon turned and with a flat, faintly questioning stare, regarded the pilot as he stood on the threshold of the flight deck before resuming his work at his station.

Tarrant felt a tiny thrill as he realized that perhaps his claim to the captaincy was not going to go uncontested, but who else held the necessary qualifications? Tarrant dismissed Vila and the women immediately and considered his competition.

Avon was undoubtedly a highly intelligent and wily thinker in addition to his superb technical abilities with computers, but what did he know about space ships and space travel? He was raised and educated as a mudfoot; Tarrant at least had the benefit of the thorough training a Federation Space Captain was subjected to.

Yes, Tarrant thought, he was the natural choice as captain to this ship and leader to her crew. A ship needed military organization and discipline to be run efficiently and effectively, and Tarrant was the one who could supply it. Avon and the girls, with their obvious intelligence, should all adapt quite quickly to the new routine that Tarrant would soon institute. And as for Vila…, well, Tarrant expected some trouble there. Frankly, he could not understand why Vila was even on the ship, let alone what purpose he served. Tarrant ran a tight ship; he had never tolerated any freeloaders before and he wasn't about to start now.

Satisfied by his shipmates' activities, he trotted down the steps and stood behind Dayna, watching her put the long range detectors online and then rapidly call up the different scanning sectors. Very well done, he thought, impressed with Dayna's skill and Cally's competency as an instructor.

Tarrant wandered over to observe Avon at work. He stopped suddenly when he sighted Vila lying curled up on the flight deck's couch, sleeping. "What is he doing here?" Tarrant demanded, irritated by such slackness.

Avon briefly glanced at his softly snoozing crewmate. "Sleeping, I should imagine." He returned to his work.

"Yes, I can see that. The flight deck isn't the proper place for naps. Why is he sleeping here and not in his cabin?"

Avon didn't even bother to look up. "Because he's on watch," he said, completely deadpan.

Tarrant stared at Avon's back, his face slowly suffusing with anger at Avon's attitude.

When it became apparent that Avon was going to ignore Tarrant, Cally took up Vila's defense. The pilot's attitude annoyed her, but she felt it was probably due to a lack of understanding on Tarrant's part. "Vila gets lonely at times," she explained. "When he does, he finds it easier to sleep if he has some company around him."

"From what I've seen, he has no trouble falling asleep anytime, anywhere. He should be made to go to his cabin."

Avon paused. "As long as he is not disturbing anyone, Vila is free to do as he pleases – as are the rest of us," Avon stated, his voice decisive.

Tarrant hesitated, not willing to challenge Avon over this particular subject, especially since popular opinion seemed to be against him. He veered off onto a related subject. "Why is Vila here, anyway? What's he good for? I haven't seen him be of use since I arrived."

Cally was offended. "Vila is a valuable member of this crew. He takes his turn with the watches and is proficient at all the different stations. He's also quite skilled at unlocking locks."

"I'm the best there is," Vila corrected indignantly as he sat up. He was a light sleeper and the mention of his name had woken him up immediately. Listening in, he became unhappy with the way his defense was running and decided to take an active part. "Locks, security systems and all sorts of thieving, they're my specialty," he said proudly.

Dayna looked surprised. "You're a thief?" she asked.

"That's right," he affirmed. "First class." He noticed the mildly disgusted looks Dayna and Tarrant shared and was irritated. Since they had been onboard, the newcomers had been trying to top each other with their tales of derring–do and Vila was suddenly fed up with them. "I can see that there are those here who don't believe me, but it's true; I'm the best there is. And that's not a lot of bragging like some I could name."

Tarrant took a step forward. "You don't call 'best there is' bragging?" he asked derisively.

Vila managed a slightly superior expression. "Not in the least; ask anyone. Your trouble is that you've just not seen me in action."

Dayna sparkled with amusement. "I'd have to agree with that! I haven't seen you do a thing since I've come on board."

Vila was a little hurt by such mean words coming from such a pretty girl. "I'm saving m'self," he explained. "I mean, when a man can steal anything from anybody — why should I waste my energy on something as boring as the routine around here?"

Dayna's voice was full of ridicule. "'Anything from anybody'?" she queried. "You couldn't steal from me." Seeing Vila's narrowed expression, she added, "And you'd better not try to, either!"

"It'd be a piece of cake," Vila stubbornly maintained.

"You?" Tarrant said scornfully. "You couldn't get past Dayna's defenses; have you seen what she is capable of?"

Worry flitted across Vila's face, then cleared. "Doesn't matter. I could still steal anything I wanted."

"Talking's cheap and you have a lot of mouth," Tarrant said as he took a few steps towards where Vila was seated.

"There's a lot of that going around," Vila countered defiantly.

Cally, worried at the direction things seemed to be taking, flashed a look at the computer expert. "Avon…." she said, her voice low with warning.

Avon put down the tool he'd been using and stared flatly at the two men as they sized each other up. He was surprised that Vila was taking such a strong stance against the pilot, but perhaps he was right to. If Vila didn't exert himself now, it'd be worthless to try later on once the newcomers had him firmly categorized. Conversely, Dayna and Tarrant both had valuable skills that Vila needed to respect also. These people were going to have to work together if, as a crew, they were going to be effective. A working demonstration of their respective skills might prove to he helpful.

Avon slid out of his chair and slowly approached Tarrant. Once there, he turned and faced Dayna. "It seems to me that both of you should have a chance to prove your worth to each other if you're going to be able to work together."

"What do you mean?" asked Tarrant.

Avon swiveled around to face the pilot. "I propose a contest."

Tarrant was taken aback. "What?"

Avon gave a relaxed smile. "A contest of skill," he explained as he walked past Tarrant to stand in front of the main view screen. He turned to face the others. "Between Vila and Dayna, with no interference from the rest of us."

As Tarrant snorted with scorn, Dayna stood up, incredulous. "Vila? Avon, you must be joking!" she exclaimed.

"Not in the least."

Vila leaned forward uncomfortably. "Uh, Avon…." he began.

Glancing at Vila, Avon said, "You will both be doing what you do best: Vila, you will be stealing and avoiding capture, and Dayna, you will be trying to find and stop him."

Dayna gave Vila a long, measuring stare. "That shouldn't take too long. When do I start?"

"To be fair, in the morning. And there will be rules."

"Like what?" Tarrant wanted to know.

"Like Vila must steal something that belongs to each of us, and Dayna must find him, stop him and hold him for, say, a half an hour."

Dayna looked thoughtful, becoming intrigued by the challenge. "Can I lay traps?"

"Yes, but any trap you set for Vila cannot harm him."

Vila shot Avon a suspicious look, wondering if the computer expert was attempting to tease him. When he saw Avon's bland, slightly stern expression, he whirled about to stare at Dayna aghast.

Ignoring Vila, Dayna tried to bargain. "How about just temporarily?" Aware of how pale Vila had turned, she smiled sweetly at the thief. "Nothing permanent, of course."

Vila anxiously jumped to his feet and stood next to the technician. "Avon!" he demanded.

Avon regarded Dayna mildly. "Out of the question, I'm afraid."

Dayna's expression became sullen. "Oh, all right." But when Avon looked away, she flashed Tarrant a conspiratorial smile and wink.

"As I said, the competition will begin in the morning; that'll give Dayna time to prepare some non–lethal weapons. Agreed?" asked Avon.

"Sounds fine," said Tarrant. "But what will keep Vila from just gathering the stuff up tonight?"

Avon smiled. "You will. You can keep an eye on him until morning."

This time, it was Tarrant's turn to grin. "Right!"

"That's not fair!" Vila protested. "How will I be able to concentrate with him hanging about?" Vila looked hurt. "Don't you trust me?"

"No!" chorused Dayna and Tarrant.

"Charming," Vila muttered to himself.

Dayna stood up. "Well, I'd better get busy; there's a lot to do. See you in the morning," she called out as she left the flight deck.

Tarrant stared at Avon. "You can't really believe that Vila is any sort of competition for Dayna, can you?"

The merest of smiles settled across Avon's face.

Tarrant wandered over to the pilot's position and ran his hand over the console. "What would you say to making this contest more interesting, say along the lines of a wager?"

Avon was wary. "What do you have in mind?"

Tarrant smiled. "Control of the LIBERATOR."

"The ship is mine, Tarrant; suggest something else."

Tarrant had a one–track mind though; the only thing he wanted was control of the ship. Perhaps, he reasoned, he should try for just a foothold. "How about my having the undisputed and final say on anything that concerns the flying and running of this ship, then?"

Avon walked a few steps away from Tarrant as he considered the proposal. Actually, he didn't want to be bothered with the details of running and flying the ship; that's what pilots were for, and besides, he had more important things to think about. The wager was basically what he wanted Tarrant for, anyway… except for the word 'undisputed'. Then again, the reality of the situation was that Avon controlled the computers and the computers controlled the ship, and therefore, Avon would always maintain a veto on Tarrant's 'final say'. The bet was a safe one then, with no risk on Avon's part.

But Tarrant needn't know that.

Avon smiled, and began to consider what he would counter with. When ready, he schooled his features into his best poker face and turned to face the others. "You want rather a lot, Tarrant. This ship isn't a military vessel; it's home to us who live on it."

"It's still a ship and I'm a trained pilot. What's the matter, Avon; don't you have faith in Vila's 'abilities'?"

The technician glanced at Vila and, even though he didn't show it, was greatly amused by the thief's wide–eyed look of shocked worry. "The risk does seem rather high," Avon agreed.

Vila's face clouded up with indignation, but before he could speak, Avon cut him off. "What exactly will I win if Vila does defeat Dayna? Shouldn't it be of comparable nature?" he asked, leading Tarrant.

Now it was Tarrant's turn to be wary. "What do you have in mind?"

"As you have no possession worth bargaining for, how about you doing as I say, without any argument?"

Tarrant was silent as he considered the possible repercussions of such a bet.

"Come, Tarrant – I'll make it easier for you. You only have to be obedient for one week. Surely you have that much faith in Dayna."

Tarrant took up the challenge. "All right, Avon. You have yourself a bet."

Avon couldn't suppress the small, pleased smile that escaped him. "Excellent."

Meanwhile, Vila looked on in pure bafflement, a sick feeling spreading out from his stomach. How on earth had he gotten mixed up in all this when he'd barely said two words? Why was it that he was always the one to get picked on?

* * * * *

As the evening wore on, Avon and Cally came and went as they wished, but Vila and Tarrant remained on the flight deck. The thief spent a good deal of his time laying down, staring at the ceiling, his face scrunched up in speculation. Occasionally, he'd wander over to his flight position and call up something on his screen while making sure that Tarrant couldn't see what he was doing.

Later in the evening, Avon surprised them both by bringing them a light refreshment. He settled next to Vila on the flight couch as he joined them for the meal. Tarrant decided to stretch his legs and took a little walk around the room.

After a minute, Avon broke the silence. "Dayna is very pretty," he stated.

"Eh?" said Vila, trying to fathom such a strange statement coming from Avon.

"Don't let that prettiness fool you, Vila, and don't underestimate her. She'll win if you're not careful."

Vila sighed. "I knew there had to be a reason for this little chat. Don't worry, Avon — I won't let you down."

Avon stared sourly at him, faintly irritated that Vila felt the need to reassure him. He decided to let the matter drop and added very quietly, "You might find it very fortuitous to make my quarters your first stop; you could find something useful."

Vila stared at Avon, his eyes narrowing as he considered Avon's unusual request.

Tarrant, attracted by the low tones, wandered closer.

Avon reached into his tunic's pocket and brought out one of Vila's smaller tool kits. "I dropped by your cabin to pick this up. Is it the right one?" he asked, handing it over to the eager thief.

Vila opened it and looking it over said, "Yeah, perfect. This should handle anything she could put together. Thanks, Avon."

"You're welcome." Avon finished his drink and stood, not wanting the pilot to hear anything else he might say to Vila.

"You're not leaving already, are you Avon?" asked Tarrant.

"Yes. There are things that require my attention," he said as he left.

Tarrant settled into the seat that Avon had vacated and favored Vila with a bright, toothy smile. "You haven't got a chance, you know," he said in a bald attempt at rattling the smaller man.

Vila sighed. "So you keep telling me."

* * * * *

Morning arrived at last, or at least its shipboard equivalent, and all were assembled on the flight deck.

Dayna was bright and cheerful. "Everything's set; when do we start?" she asked eagerly.

"Yes, Avon; how do you propose to get this thing going?" Tarrant added, his manner brisk and energetic.

Avon was seated on the flight deck's couch and he regarded the thief sitting across from him. "Well? Are you ready?" he inquired.

Vila smiled and stood. "Completely," he said. "Do I get a head start?" he inquired. The thief felt wonderfully relaxed. He had never been this calm prior to a job before, but he figured that it was probably due to the fact that he knew he could not and would not be hurt or in any danger. It was a nice feeling and Vila luxuriated in it.

"I was thinking about giving you a minute head start before I arm the traps and five minutes before I come after you," said Dayna. She gave Avon a quizzical glance, checking for his approval. "Do you think that will be sufficient?"

"It should be," Avon replied, frowning at Vila. The technician did not like the thief's relaxed attitude. He knew from past experience that Vila was at his best when he was scared the worst.

Vila sauntered up the stairs and stood on the landing. He turned back to face his audience. "M's," he said.

Cally was puzzled. "What?" she asked, sparing a quick glance at the others to see if they looked as if they knew what Vila was talking about. They didn't.

"M's," he repeated smugly. "Just remember I said 'M's', that's all." He gave a satisfied grin and walked out.

Tarrant, his voice pitched loudly for a penetrating projection, asked, "Dayna, did you remember to bring me something to eat? I'm starving." He moved over to stand by her side.

Dayna had her eyes locked onto her wristwatch as he counted down the minute.

"Do you think he heard?" she asked quietly.

"I'm sure of it," Tarrant assured her. "I bet he'll soon be at the galley to catch a quick bite, then 'BAM', you've got him." Tarrant smiled at the idea.

Incredulous, Cally glanced at Avon, noticing his grim expression. She twisted her position at the head of the couch to get a good view of Dayna and Tarrant. "Do you mean to say that you've laid a trap for Vila in the galley?"

"Something like that," Tarrant said vaguely.

"He won't be expecting it," protested Cally.

"Exactly!" Dayna said with relish. The hunt was on and her prey was nearing the ambush. As far as she was concerned, nothing compared with the anticipation she felt at times like these. Twenty seconds to go and then she could arm her trap.

"I don't think that is very fair," Cally said as she turned back around and looked again at Avon.

The computer expert gave a small sigh. "Life very rarely is," he stated flatly.

"Ten seconds," said Dayna, tightening her grip on the remote control she carried. "By the way, I think everyone should remain on the flight deck until I disarm the traps. I wouldn't want anyone else to get hurt," she said, her smile gleeful.

* * * * *

Breakfast, thought Vila, suddenly becoming aware that his stomach was growling. Strange that he hadn't noticed it before. With the galley along the way to the crew quarters, Vila felt that he could spare a few seconds and grab a muffin or something as he passed. He had his plan of attack all figured out and with Dayna giving him the five minutes, he felt he could well afford a refueling stop.

He turned into the proper corridor and stepped briskly into the room.

//Vila, NO!//

Cally's mental shout startled him so badly he dropped into a crouch and threw himself sideways out the door. He stared wildly about, his heart pounding.

//Do not go into the galley, Vila. Dayna has set a trap for you there.// Concern wreathed around the silent message, calming Vila slightly.

The thief rolled to his knees and warily peered into the galley. A photoelectronic bean was carefully placed at waist level, slicing across the room about a meter in. Visually following the thin wire that led away from the photocell, he spotted the odd looking weapon that was braced pointing at the door, and more importantly, at him. An evil, little red light glared at him from the lump of electronics that were connected to the gun.

Vila backed out of the room, shaken from his near miss. He had nearly been shot by what, he didn't know or care. He quickly re–evaluated his situation, a healthy dose of fear giving him the familiar clarity and sharp awareness that he was used to working with. This was not the game he thought it was.

He took a deep, steadying breath as he set off towards Avon's cabin — a much more cautious and suspicious man.

* * * * *

"There," said Dayna, activating the remote control. "Twenty–three different devices are now set," she said with satisfaction.

"Twenty–three," mused Tarrant. "I think you've overestimated your opponent."

"Better that than to underestimate. Besides, Avon seems to think it's a fair contest. What do you think, Cally?" she asked, looking over at the Auron.

Cally stared at the screen in front of her, not hearing the question.

Suddenly suspicious, Dayna walked quickly over to get a better look at her crewmate. "Cally! Did you hear what I said? What were you doing just now?"

Cally stared mildly up at Dayna. "Yes, I heard you. I was just lost in thought, that's all."

"You weren't telepathing a warning to Vila, were you?" Dayna had been around the Auron enough now to be familiar with her strange mental powers and she thought she had recognized 'the look'.

"Do you think I would do something like that?" Cally asked, apparently a trifle annoyed by the very suggestion. "That wouldn't be fair."

Dayna flashed a quick look to Avon, to check on his reaction to that statement.

Avon returned the look, his eyebrows arched, his face a picture of innocence. "I did not telepath him a message, either."

Dayna glowered at them both. She glanced at her remote. "No traps activated, yet."

"Give him time," comforted Tarrant. "You're bound to catch him."

Dayna consulted her wristwatch again. "He's got exactly three minutes more, then I'm going after him. I'll get him then for sure." She glared belligerently again at Cally and Avon for good measure.

* * * * *

Vila skittishly crept down the passageway, coming to a cautious stop at Avon's door. Careful examination revealed that the door was wired with a small, remote alarm. Vila glanced nervously about, trying to spot any possible pitfalls associated with the alarm, but saw nothing. Finally deciding that Dayna probably wouldn't do anything too hazardous to the computer expert's door, he bypassed the alarm, unlocked and opened the door, flinging himself back at the same time.

Flat against the wall, he waited. After a few tense moments, he peered around the door into the cabin. The room was very tidy save for a few projects in various stages of completion scattered on the tabletops, and Orac. Vila couldn't see any traps so he slipped inside and closed the door.

Relaxing a little in the relative safety of a 'clean' room, he took a few moments to try to decide what it was Avon had been hinting at the night before.

He walked up to Orac and slid in the key. "Morning, Orac. Any messages for me?"

"None that you would be capable of comprehending with your limited intellect," the little computer fussed.

"I love you too, Orac," Vila mused, picking up a teleport bracelet that was lying next to the computer. He stared thoughtfully at it.

"How you could misinterpret a simple negative to your previous inquiry as a declaration of love…."

"Orac," Vila interrupted, "this teleport bracelet; is it functional?"

"Of course it is!" Orac said, very irritated.

Vila stared into the distance. "Is the teleport capable of picking someone up from inside the ship?"

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"That's not an answer," the thief persisted. "Give us an answer and you had better be telling the truth."

"Of course it will work! Why do you insist on bothering me with these asinine questions?"

Vila shrugged. "No reason, really, except that I enjoy it. I tell you what, Orac; I won't ask you any more silly questions if you will operate the teleport as instructed. Deal?"

"If it means being left alone, I will gladly comply."

Vila smiled. "Right!" He clipped on the bracelet. "Be ready for a fast pickup. Understood?"

Orac whirred faster, but remained silent.

Vila frowned, slightly offended. "I didn't think that was a stupid question."

Miffed, he stared down at the computer, then wandered away. "All right, have it your own way. I have better things to do anyway."

The thief went up to a wall panel and carefully manipulated a secret latch. The panel popped open on its hinges, revealing a hidden compartment. Quickly rifling through its contents, he soon spotted what he was after and shoved it down inside his jacket.

He closed everything back up, not wanting to incur Avon's wrath by 'ransacking' his cabin. He glanced up at a clock. Dayna should be on the prowl by now — better to leave by a different exit. He scooted a small table up against the wall beneath a ventilation duct. The vent would be a tight fit, but he'd been through its like before. In his off hours he had made a thorough investigation of every inch of the ship, crawling down any passage where he could fit. Call it habit, but every possible bolthole was found out for use in case the ship was ever invaded.

Standing on the table, Vila pried off the vent's covering. He pushed off and wiggled into the opening, grimacing as he heard the table fall over. "Sorry about that, Avon," he muttered as he struggled on.

* * * * *

"His five minutes are up," Dayna said. She clipped the remote control to her belt and drew a small handgun. Trotting up the stairs, she was stopped by Avon.

"How much of a charge does that weapon pack?"

"Minimal," Dayna answered quickly, turning to go.

"Wait," Avon commanded. "How 'minimal'?"

Dayna sighed and turned around. "Just enough to knock him out."

"That's too much. Adjust it to a level that will cause him a momentary weakness and nothing more."

They stared at each other.

"Do it now," said Avon, giving her a toothy grin.

"Oh, all right," she said. She unsnapped a section of the weapon and fiddled briefly about with the insides. "There," she said, replacing the cover. "It'll cause him to drop to the floor and be disoriented for approximately ten seconds. Does that meet with your approval?"

"Not really, but it will have to do. I would just prefer not to scramble the few wits he has left, that's all."

* * * * *

Vila peered out of the grill that covered the vent he was in and stared into the corridor below. Cally's door was across and to the left of his position and he could just make out another silent alarm like the one that had protected Avon's room. He was just ready to pop the covering off when he heard the barest whisper of a sound. He froze and waited.

Dayna moved fluidly down the passageway, intent and deadly, a small handgun held before her. She paused at Cally's door, checking the alarm. Satisfied, she cautiously moved on.

Vila let out the breath he'd been holding and rethought his strategy. Dayna would soon be at Avon's door. She would probably spot her bypassed alarm and check inside, doubtlessly seeing the opened vent. He sighed; he had hoped to get better use of the ventilation system.

That left the inspection channels down below, except Vila knew that Dayna knew of them. Risky, but he'd have to try them to be sure. One thing he wasn't going to try was Dayna's cabin. He figured pride would make her concentrate the majority of the traps there; it would be suicidal to even attempt entry. Besides, he had something much bolder in mind for her.

Taking a deep breath, he loosened the grill and wriggled out of the vent, landing as quietly as he could. Leaving the grill on the floor, he quickly bypassed the alarm and opened the unlocked door. Bless you, Cally, he thought as he peered into the cabin; not having to mess with the lock had saved him a few valuable seconds.

Not spotting any traps, he ran into the room, intent on his target. From the small sandbox on her bedside table, he carefully gathered the small reddish–brown disc and gently placed it into a deep inside pocket against his chest where it would be both warm and safe.

"Two down," he mumbled, pleased with himself as he turned to leave the room. A quick check of the corridor proved it to be empty and he scampered out, racing down its length away from the living quarters.

When he reached the ancillary service area, he slowed to a stop near an inspection channel hatch. Leaning over it, he could find no evidence of tampering. He knelt down, grasped the handles, and lifted. One side stuck, so he jerked harder, losing his balance in the process as the heavy hatch broke free. As he fell to the side, a brilliant energy beam burst up from the depths of the channel, stunning Vila as he was brushed by its exterior aura. A shrill, oscillating alarm screamed loudly, blanking his mind and causing further disorientation.

Frightened, he lay with his eyes tightly shut, slowly becoming aware that the stun's tingling was ebbing from his body. He rolled over and, operating more on instinct than anything else, crawled over to a door. Able to stand, he pulled himself up, pressing the button that opened the door, and staggered in.

It was the surgery. Vila shut the door behind him, cutting off the distracting noise in the process. His mind began to clear rapidly now; and he stared about, trying to turn this to his advantage. He stepped forward as a plan took shape in his mind.

* * * * *

Dayna was staring disgustedly into Avon's cabin when she heard the alarm go off.

"Got you!" she exclaimed, checking the location on her remote control. "The inspection hatch, just outside of the surgery. Well, that makes it convenient in case I did scramble your brains." She set off at an easy lope, carefully avoiding some other ambushes along the way.

When she arrived at the open hatch, Dayna was puzzled by the lack of a body in the vicinity. "Don't tell me you fell in," she said, cautiously edging up to the hole as she turned off the stun beam via her control box. She peered down the hatchway, then bent down to get a better look when she realized Vila wasn't down there, either.

Must of winged him, she thought, pulling her stun gun out of her waistband. He's got to be close by, probably in hiding.

There were only two doors nearby and Dayna chose the closest, the surgery door. It was closed, but it opened easily. Walking inside, she slowly scanned the room and saw nothing out of the ordinary except that the door to the infirmary was closed, too. Ah ha! she thought, rapidly trotting up to it. The infirmary, where people stayed while they recuperated, only had one way out and this was it.

She got a good grip on her gun and triggered the door without success, then looked closer at the device. Excitement coursed through her as she realized that it indicated that it had been locked from the other side! She had him cold!

"It's over, Vila. You might as well come out now," Dayna called, her voice raised to carry through the door. Nothing happened. Impatient, she tried again. "Look, it will be easier on you if I don't have to come in after you. Do you hear me, Vila? Open the door!"

She sighed and stuck her gun in her waistband, a little irritated that he was making her go through the motions. She took a small probe out of a pocket she wore on her belt and began to manipulate the lock. With her knowledge of circuitry, she knew she would eventually open it and that it was only a matter of time.

She concentrated all her attention on the lock.

* * * * *

Vila silently crept out from behind a table in the surgery, two tools gripped tightly in his hands. Carefully, he inched closer to Dayna's back. His target, her necklace, glistened invitingly across her neck, her bare shoulders giving him an unobstructed view.

"Stupid lock," she muttered, shifting a little to her left as she retackled it at a different angle.

Vila, standing a mere two meters behind her, froze, praying to whoever looked after thieves that she would not see him. When she kept quietly to her work, he closed his eyes in thanks, not daring to even sigh at this close range.

Anxious to finish this before his courage gave out altogether, he quickly closed the gap between them. Standing scant inches away, he raised up his hands. With precise and steady movements, he used the small clamp in his left hand to grip the necklace and raise a few of the links off her neck. The laser knife in his right hand had been adjusted to two millimeters in depth, just enough to cut the chain.

Well, he wasn't getting any younger waiting around like this. He grimaced and made the cut. He waited for the free end to slip down Dayna's front, then he smoothly and gracefully pulled the other end up and away.

"What?" Dayna exclaimed, her hand automatically going to her chest to catch her necklace. Puzzled, she glanced down and around, patting her clothing.

Vila danced a few steps backwards, bringing up his wrist. "Teleport, Orac! Now!!" he cried, scooping up the necklace into his hand.

Dayna whirled around. "Vila! You little rat!" Eyes flashing furiously, she drew her handgun and brought it to bear on the frightened thief. "Stop!!" she ordered.

Vila shimmered out of existence, his eyes wide and his hands held up in mute defense.

"Damn!" cursed Dayna. She ran to the ship's intercom and palmed it on.

"Tarrant! Do you hear me, Tarrant?"

"Yes, Dayna. What's the matter?"

"That little…." She paused. "Vila. I had him, then he teleported out. He's cheated. You're closer to the teleport chamber; go find him and confiscate his bracelet. If I do it I can promise you he won't like it one bit, but I certainly will."

Tarrant chuckled. "Right, Dayna. I'll do what I can. Out."

* * * * *

On the flight deck, Cally worriedly looked at Tarrant as he made for the exit that led towards the teleport. "Is this fair?" she asked.

Tarrant turned. "Probably not, but Vila should have thought about that before he cheated and used the teleport."

"No one said anything about the teleport being off limits," Avon said, his manner mild.

Tarrant stared hard at Avon. "It didn't need to be said; it was understood."

"Just as it was understood that the galley would not be made into an ambush?" Avon asked, a slight smile appearing.

Tarrant took a step closer to Avon. "What do you know about this?"

"Only that Vila is using his environment to the best of his abilities to win. It's his nature, you see. He's a professional thief and was raised in the Delta domes. He knows little about the niceties of 'playing fair'."

Tarrant for once had nothing to say. He simply turned and trotted off towards the teleport, smoldering with anger.

Cally was still worried. She turned to Avon and said, "Shouldn't Vila be warned that there are now two after him?"

Avon turned on a bright, stunning smile. "Well, now. I think that would be fair, don't you?"

Cally's answering smile left no doubt about her opinion.

* * * * *

Vila was making his way to Tarrant's cabin, hoping to get out before hurricane Dayna hit.

//Vila, you've made Dayna very angry.//

Vila paused. "Tell me something I don't already know," he muttered.

//She's got Tarrant helping her now. He's on his way to the teleport. Be careful, Vila.//

"That I didn't know. Thank you, Cally." He immediately increased his speed away from the teleport, wishing he could think and run at the same time.

He skidded to a stop as he raced past the galley. Backtracking, he peeked into the dining room, eyes drawn to the evil little red light that glared at him. Do onto others…he thought as he slipped into the room, careful to avoid the beam. Crawling to the center, he law down and curled up.

He didn't have long to wait. Soon he heard Tarrant's heavy tread coming down the hallway. Vila kicked the table and cried out, his voice truly sounding distressed.

"Ahhh!" He lay still as Tarrant ran to the doorway.

"Well, she got you after all; I knew she would. I'd better take a look, make sure you're all right," Vila heard Tarrant say as he stepped into the room.

Next, Vila heard the whine of the stun gun and a grunt as Tarrant fell heavily to the floor.

The thief rolled over and found himself staring into Tarrant's face. "Well, she sure got one of us, eh, Hotshot?" He brought his teleport bracelet up to his mouth.

* * * * *

Back on the flight deck and throughout the ship, Zen's deep voice resonated pleasantly. ++Information. The one called Vila wishes to announce the end of the competition. All are invited to the dining room for a celebration.++

* * * * *

When Avon and Cally arrived, they found Vila seated at the table, feet up as he enjoyed a large meal he had prepared for himself.

"Come in, come in," he invited. "Don't mind the mess," he dismissed, waving his hand in Tarrant's direction.

Avon and Cally shared a disbelieving look as they sat down beside him.

"Dayna! Come in, sit yourself down! Contest's over, but I want you to know that I'll fix your necklace to be as good as new; you'll never know it was broken. I promise." He grinned good naturedly up at her.

Dayna frowned.

Vila tried again. "You nearly got me a couple of times; I was lucky to win." He gave her his most appealing look. "No hard feelings, eh?"

Dayna brightened into a sudden smile. "Oh, all right. Congratulations, Vila. I must admit I'm quite impressed. Now, show us what you've collected." She sat down beside the others.

"Right!" he said, pushing his plate to one side. He reached into his tunic and brought out his loot, piling it carefully in front of him. He looked up eagerly at his friends' faces, waiting.

"Ah," said Avon. "Your 'M's'." He picked up the little reddish cactus and handed it back to Cally. "Your Moondisc, I believe," he said.

"My medallion," said Dayna, picking up her broken necklace.

"And my money," said Avon as he gathered and straightened his cash.

"From Freedom City. You remember, don't you, Avon?" prompted Vila.

"Quite," said Avon, raising his hand to stop the thief. "I don't see anything here for Tarrant, though. And I don't see how you could overlook him."

"Exactly!" said Vila, turning to face the sleeping pilot. "And there it is."

"What?" said Dayna. "All I see over there is Tarrant."

"That's right, but a rose by any other name, eh?" When everyone still looked puzzled, Vila explained further. "M's, right? Well, there it is: Moron," he said proudly.

Avon looked surprised and Cally quickly hid her smile behind her hand. Dayna laughed outright.

"He'll get you for that when he comes to, you know," she said, relishing Vila's suddenly worried look.

"And you're just the one to tell him, eh?" he said as he stood. "Well, while you're at it, you might as well warn him there's a man aboard this ship that doesn't like people kipping outside of their cabins." He walked to the doorway, stopped and turned, a playful smile lighting up his face. "Tell him not to worry, though; I'll put in a good word for him and fix it so that he'll be able to kip anywhere he wants…mess hall floor included!"

* * * * *

Much later in the day, Avon and Dayna were working quietly on the flight deck when Cally and Tarrant came in.

"He's fine," said Cally, indicating the pilot.

"Just a headache," said Tarrant, walking to his flight position and giving Dayna a sour look as he passed by her.

She giggled. "I'm sorry, Tarrant. I would have set it differently if I'd known it was going to be used on you. No hard feelings?" she asked.

"Not with you," he mumbled grumpily.

Avon glanced at the pilot, but said nothing.

* * * * *

"Evening, all," Vila announced as he breezed onto the flight deck. He had just finished his sleep period and had arrived to take his watch. "Everything nice and quiet?" he asked, darting a glance at Tarrant.

"No Federation activity noted in this sector," said Dayna, purposefully misunderstanding his question.

"Good, good," he said, still trying to suss out the current mood of his crewmates. He took his flight position and fidgeted with some of the controls.

"Tarrant," said Avon suddenly. "It is time to collect on the wager." Tarrant stiffened and remained silent.

"That is," Avon continued slowly, "if you intend on honoring your bet."

Stung, Tarrant replied sharply, "Of course I'll honor it."

Avon smiled. "Good. In that case, my first instruction to you is that you will obey Vila's orders for the next week."

"What?" Tarrant said, his voice incredulous.

"You heard me."

"The wager was that if I lost, I'd obey you. Vila was never mentioned," he said tightly.

"Well, he's mentioned now," Avon said as he stood and started to walk out. "I haven't got the time or the inclination to collect … but the obligation has to be paid." He turned and favored all with a satisfied smile. "Your watch, Vila," he said and left.

A very pregnant pause followed as everyone waited for a reaction. Finally, Vila leaned back at his flight station and said, "You know, I could use a nice cup of coffee. Would you mind fetching it for me, Tarrant?"

Tarrant stared daggers at the thief. He began to speak, then changed his mind as he got up and left.

"Bring me a pillow while you're at it!" Vila called out after him. "This is going to be fun!" the thief mused, smiling smugly.

"Not as fun as it is going to be when the week is up," Dayna said in gleeful anticipation.

Vila's eyes went wide. "Oh, no! I hadn't thought of that!"

END

**Author's Note:**

> Previous published in Magnificent 7, #7.


End file.
